Pathetic
by Leona15
Summary: L goes along with Light letting out his frustrations on him because he figures he deserves it.


Hey there...well yeah I was bored so I wrote this.  
 **Please don't read if you can't handle themes like violence and rape, THANKS:)**

 **Disclaimer:** (unfortunately) nothing is mine and (unfortunately) I wont get any money for this^^

 **Pathetic**

Light can't decide what makes him more furious, the fact that L lets him do whatever he wants to him, or the fact that the detective doesn't look at him while he does it. It's not like they do what they do out of love or tenderness for each other, but it still pisses him off. He hates how L just stares off, looking like he's thinking about anything else than being fucked by Light. That's why when they go to their room Light has taken to fucking him from behind. Then at least he doesn't have to see his eyes glazing over and staring off into space.

It still infuriates him. When they'd first started to fuck around Light wasn't this angry. He couldn't sleep with Misa since he was chained to the black-haired insomniac, and L was kind of appealing in that stoic way. And surprise, surprise, the detective had been willing, at first.

Willing to do just about anything the student found out. He'd been so quick to go down on his knees that Light wondered if he'd ever done this before. How often had L let other people use him? He had the kind of face that implied some past delicacy under the emotionless facade. It turns him on and disgusts at the same time. It's so pathetic, seeing this supposed untouchable guy, the best detective in the whole world, crouching in front of him or bent over, willing to let Light fuck him like he was a whore in an alleyway. But as time has passed, it doesn't feel like L is so willing anymore.

Light gets off on that though. He never considered himself to be capable of cruelty, at least not if it has no use at all, but now he saw the use of it. It was a way to protect yourself when everything else was too painful. It gives you power when you have none. And that kind of power over the man that had stolen his freedom was more than he had hoped for.

The room they shared would be a good enough place to meet. No surveillance cameras, hardly any visitors and Light felt like he should be glad about that fact. Everything else would only make this more complicated. So there they are, under the cover of the night, on the floor next to a small wardrobe. Light uses it to lean up against it as he fucks L's mouth. At this point he just takes what he wants from the other man. His logic being that if L didn't really want it, he'd just say so, right? It's not like he's some weakling, too frail to say no. So he tells him to go on his knees, holds on to his head still by the messy black hair, and uses his mouth.

The murderer can see L gag, and it makes him want to see him choke. Tightening his grasp, he forces the detective to take the entire length of his cock down his throat until his balls are being touched by his soft chin. Light sees L's hands scrabbling, trying to push away, he hears the panicked noises that come when you can't breathe, but the man in front of him doesn't look up to plead for mercy. Instead his black eyes are screwed shut. Light lets him go, pushing him away from his manhood. Strands of spit hang from it, connecting L's mouth to it until he starts to cough, gasping for breath.

"Pathetic." Light mutters contemptuously, grabbing a hold of L's hair again and forcing his face against his cock. He can feel L's tongue lap at it, the violence of what he's just done to him obviously still not enough to make him want to stop.

"Get it good and wet, because spit is all you're going to get tonight." That makes L glance up at him. His eyes are filled with anger, but he doesn't stop.

"You're going to let me do whatever I want to do to you." L alternates between licking and spitting, trying to coat Light's length it with as much saliva as he can produce, knowing that the student means every word he's saying. And it's true. He is going to let Light do whatever he wants.

Light pulls away and grabs him by the armpits, forcing him to his feet and face first against the piece of furniture. L still isn't saying anything, or resisting. Light takes that lack of no as a yes. He pulls the detective's hips back, making his ass stick out and pulling down his baggy jeans. In a moment of mercy, Light kneels down behind him, spreading his cheeks. L tenses because he can't see just what the hell the other man is doing. Then he feels fingers at his hole, spreading it open. He hears the sound of spittin, and feels the saliva hit him.

Light keeps it up, spitting on L hole and then pushing his fingers in. When he gets it to gape open for a second he spits directly into it, and he thinks he can hear what sounds like a grunt from the other man. Light gets back up, and spits into his hand, spreading it over his cock since L's spit has mostly dried. He knows this isn't enough, but as far as he's concerned it's all the detective deserves.

Light presses the head of his cock against L's hole, and pushes his way in. It's tight with no proper lubrication, but it feels good for Light at least. For L, well, at this point he doesn't give a fuck if it makes him feel good or if it hurts him. Light never really cared if the detective got off or not when they started, though it was kinda nice to see him cum. When L gets close to coming he starts biting his lips, and his tongue darts out to wet them in a way that Light liked. But that doesn't happen anymore. Light can't remember the last time L's orgasmed while being fucked.

Light starts to move, pulling out before pushing back in. Occasionally he lets spit drip from his mouth down onto his cock to make it easier on himself. It provides the bare minimum of comfort. L always feels so tight, Light figures he couldn't have done this often, if at all in the past. He likes to think that he's the first man to fuck the detective's ass. It thrills him.

L grunts and occasionally cries in pain out when Light pushes in too hard, his shoulders slumping forward. When the noises coming from him get too loud Light bends down over him, holding one hand over his mouth, the other on his throat. L still doesn't fight back, and Light fucks him harder. He can feel the detective's muffled cries against his hands, and any sense of shame about this getting him hard is long left behind. He forces his fingers into L's mouth and tightens his grip on his throat. The detective doesn't even try to bite down on the invading digits or to get out of his grip. It's like fucking a rag-doll.

"Why don't you fight back?" He hisses, his mouth against L's ear. "You could fight back, say no." Light can feel himself getting close now. "Why don't you?" He keeps pounding into the detective, any worries about his comfort long gone. "It's because you're a pathetic loner that can't get what he wants, isn't it? Well, without me, nobody would want to touch you anyway."

L's teeth bite down on Light's fingers hard for a moment before his jaws go slack. The reminder of the fact the brunettes words are true makes his body feel heavy and worthless. Light can do whatever he wants to him, it's not like it matters anyway.

Light stops talking, all of his concentration turned to coming. When he does, he stays inside of L, pumping his hips. L flinches as he feels the spurts and throbs inside of him. He hates it when Light does that, but there's no doubt in his mind that he doesn't merit any kind of consideration. He knows he's just a hole for Light to fuck his desperation into, so he doesn't get to complain. And it's kinda his fault for chaining such a young man to him anyway.

A sick grin spreads across Light's face as he pulls out and sees a little bit of his cum seeping out from L's hole. His eyes flash red for a second. It's satisfying, because even if the other man won't look at him or respond to his touch, he's still left his mark inside of him. The detective drops down to the floor, not bothering to pull his pants up. He's hurting, bad, but he knows it will pass. It always does. As Light cleans himself up, the man on the floor lets out a derisive chuckle.

"What the hell are you laughing at?"

L looks up at him, and his eyes are so filled with disgust it would infuriate Light if the man wasn't sitting on the dirty ground with his jeans around his knees with Light's load dripping out of him. "You." He shifts, wiping Light's cum from himself and on to the ground before pulling his pants up. The laughter coming from him is bitter and hard. "Maybe I am pathetic, but you are worse."

"Am I now?" Light smirks, amused at this display of useless anger. This isn't the first time one of their little encounters has ended like this, and yet every time Light tells the detective to bend over, he obeys. Light figures that he likes being treated this way.

L hauls himself up, bracing himself against the wall. "Yeah. At least I don't fuck others because I can't get what _I_ want."

Light's brow furrows and a bitter taste invades the back of his throat. "You have no idea what you are talking about you goddamn idiot."

"Don't I?" L advances and gets face to face with Light, only inches away from him. "At least I have never fucked my best friend's girlfriend because I couldn't have him. I know who Misa was with bef-"

When the punch lands on his stomach, L isn't surprised. The wind knocked out of him, L falls back and grasps onto the wardrobe for support. Light knows how and where to hit to cause the maximum amount of pain.

"You shut the fuck up." Light's voice is shaking with fury, and L couldn't be happier. It's a small revenge, but it still counts. Light stands there, his fists balled up, resisting the urge to beat the hell out of L for that little comment. The detective is smarter than he gives him credit for. He hates him so goddamn much for it, for knowing exactly what wound to stick his filthy fingers in.

Minutes later they're lying in the big bed in the middle of the room, L still clutching his stomach. All he can do is stare, his mind hazy and his body feeling like it's not really there. His body feels like it doesn't exist at all even though his heart's still beating and his gut is still hurting from the punch.

This isn't a new sensation. Growing up like he did, L learned how to not be there, how to let himself drift off. It came in handy when his father would come home drunk as hell and aching for someone to use as a punching bag, and it comes in handy now when Light fucks him. At first he didn't mind it. The attention was kind of nice, and he got off from the sex. But Light's become more dangerous, like _Kira_ was slowly taking control.

As tough as L tries to be, he's afraid of what might happen if he turns the other man down. Some things you have to fear if you want to save your skin. It's just easier to let it happen than to refuse it, and let his mind go somewhere else. Somewhere more pleasant. Somewhere where there are plenty of books, and where L isn't the biggest fuck up left alive. He just hopes Light will lose interest in him sooner than later. Other people usually have pretty quickly, the ones who _knew_ him and not the detective L.

Sleep isn't coming easy tonight, so he thinks about something nice, something far removed from the Kira-case. He imagines sitting in the woods next to Light, not Kira or the person that is laying next to him now, whoever he might be. Imagines what would happen if Light was like the brilliant student he used to be. The brunette would talk to him, they'd have deep conversations, and maybe Light would even put one arm around L.

The detective turns onto his side. It's so fucking stupid, but sometimes when he thinks about this kind of thing his eyes start to well up. He swallows it down and rubs his eyes, because as far as he's concerned he may be a sad excuse for a faggot, but he doesn't want to be pathetic. So what if Light is never gonna care about him? Doesn't give him a reason to cry about it like a goddamn baby. It's better like this, because Light is his suspect and he needs to get on with the investigation.

L closes his eyes, trying to focus on the image of the person Light could be with his arm around him. It doesn't feel right imagining someone being gentle to him. The detective has never had any illusions as to what he deserves from others. All his life the same thing has been driven home into his being. He knows no one is going to be kind, or sweet, or tender to him at all. Even just thinking that someone could is absolutely ridiculous.

But he still thinks of Light being kind towards him, holding his hand. Not making L do anything he doesn't really want to do. He doesn't think about fucking the other man, that's too painful. L figures the gentle Light wouldn't want him like that, want his pathetic, pale body that barely feels real. He's been used up too many times to be worth that kind of affection from someone like that. Someone who has goodness in their heart instead of cruelty. But maybe the old Light would be willing to hold him, and that would be good enough. Just the thought of being in his arms, being touched by those pretty hands that are so smooth and unworn compared to L's, without being hurt, is the best thing the young man can think of.

In the darkness of the night that's some measure of comfort.

Let me know what you think and sorry for disturbing you:)


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